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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This is a short story that just popped into my head one night. Anyone who has read my other works will know that I try and maintain a high degree of realism, that is not the case here. This is my first attempt at a TG Horror story so I would love to know what you think.

I was very pleased with my costume. This year I had a bet on with Billy over who could produce the most flamboyant outfit that a drag queen would be proud of.

It was the towns Proud of Pride festival and there was going to be a big parade through the town with lots of floats and people dressed up. This festival is just like the real Pride festival that we hold at the start of summer each year. Only this time the participants are not Gay, Lesbian, Bi-sexual or Trans. We just dislike the way that they are treated and every year this is our way of saying that we love them all and to say thank you for everything that they give to the community.

This year I was going to be on one of the main floats so I had gone all out on my costume. I was wearing a pink velveteen leotard over sheer pink tights and a pair of ballet slippers. I know ballet slippers aren't as sexy as heels but I have been doing the parade for three years now and heels take too much out of your feet. On my back, I had the most amazing set of semitransparent sparkly wings in the colours of the Pride rainbow. At the moment, they folded up behind me but at the tug of a string resting on my skirt they would open up, each side into three sections, spreading out to give me a wingspan of about three metres. It was very impressive. The skirt that I was wearing was also made of pink velveteen to match the leotard, around its rim was an inflatable ring which was joined to a second rim at the waist by six inflatable spokes. None of them were very big, only about a centimetre in diameter, but they were enough to hold the material of the skirt out and to make it sway sexily. At the back of my skirt was my piece de resistance, my tail. Sixteen separate pieces, each measuring eight feet in length rising up from a little shelf hidden in the waistband of the skirt. The tail feathers could be held upright and together so that they sit neatly with the wings, or they could fan out to make a display. They could even drop down to allow the wings to flap, of course that only worked well in the air, or on a ladder as I was intending to do on the float.

We had all met up outside the leisure centre to get ready for the parade, there must have been twenty floats in the carpark and around three hundred people in various costumes milling around. We had gathered on the edge of the main group to settle the bet. Jenny, the most beautiful girl I had ever met, was going to be judging our costumes. If I’m honest, I was a bit disappointed with Billy's costume, he'd gone for the whole Tina Turner thing and, while it looked pretty good, it lacked imagination. Jenny positioned herself at the bottom of the slope, about twenty metres from where Billy and I were stood. In turn, each of us had to walk down the slope, make a slow turn in front of Jenny and then go back up the slope. Our friends would stand at the side cheering, guaranteeing that a crowd would gather.

Billy went first, he tried to do a Tina Turner stomp down the slope but his high heels meant that he started to lose his balance so that the stomp became a stumble which he turned into a run rather than falling flat on his face. The small crowd howled with laughter as his heels, and gravity, won out and poor Billy ended up in a heap at Jenny's feet. His stomp back up the hill had a lot more attitude.

It was my turn next. To begin with I kept everything folded, the wings were closed around the tail and the skirt hung loosely over my thighs. It still looked like a reasonably good costume as I slowly walked down the slope, wiggling my bottom just enough to look like I was trying. Only my sister and I knew that I could do a much more outrageous wiggle. She had spent the last three weeks teaching me how. As I neared the bottom of the slope I released the valve that inflated the skirt using a small canister hidden under the shelf at the back. Then I released the wings and tail letting them open to their fullest extent. The reaction was just what I wanted. Oohs and aahs came from the crowd as my full grandeur was revealed for the first time. This was followed by several camera clicks and catcalls. I added a full bum wiggle to set the skirt swaying seductively just as the reaction slowed so that I got a whole new round of responses. It was perfect. So was Jenny's face, she was grinning all over

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” she called as though she was calling a proper competition, “Without wishing to offend our valiant loser, I am sure will all agree that there can be only one winner of todays bet.” The crowd, which was now quite big, cheered as Jenny continued. “That winner is, of course, our very own Robbie Miller.” I tried an awkward sort of curtesy as the crowd cheered even more. Even the defeated Billy was applauding and smiling as he, carefully, made his way back down the slope. “So,” Jenny wasn’t finished, “which of you gorgeous creatures is going to let us in on the details of your little wager?”
It was Billy who answered, a smile on his face, “It is quite simple,” he said, “on Monday the loser, that is me, will be spending the entire day in the losing costume. Which, of course, means that I will be attending college this way.” He paused for a moment and then, with an evil grin on his face, he added, “It is a shame that Robbie won really, I would’ve loved to have seen Old McAllister’s face when he turned up to college in that lot.”
Not surprisingly, the whole crowd agreed with him and chants of “Do it Robbie,” “Go Robbie,” and the like began to rise above the general murmur of the crowd. There really weren’t many options open to me so I made the best I could of the situation with a promise that I would join Billy on Monday only if our float raised more than £250 during the day’s festivities.
Before we set off on the hour-long parade I thought it would be prudent to go to the toilet. Normally it wouldn’t be an issue, there are plenty of places along the route where a guy can nip off for a minute. But with my costume that was out of the question this year so I headed off to the outside changing rooms. These changing rooms are basically four changing rooms in one so that they can be separated if competitive games are taking place or used as one big changing room for events like todays.
I pushed open the main door of the changing rooms expecting the automatic light to switch on as I did so, but nothing happened. I held the door open letting in as much daylight as I could, the foyer to the four changing room doors looked clear and I was sure that light would be restored when I entered the changing room proper. I pushed the door wide and then began to cross the floor, hoping that I would make it before being plunged into darkness. I did, comfortably. Unfortunately for me there was no light in the changing rooms either. I fumbled about on the wall trying to locate the switch, but when I did nothing happened. Of course, by now the outer door had closed and the whole place was in pitched darkness. I wasn’t scared, I’d used these changing rooms every week of the football season for the last six years so I knew my way around. I was a little worried though, the thought of getting out of, and then back in to, this costume in the dark was not appealing and I was really needing to go. I headed to the toilets at the back of the changing room, my knowledge of the room and my need to pee making me go too fast. So when my foot came in to contact with the bag left carelessly in my path I went flying, and not in the graceful way that my costume would suggest. Oh no, I went down in a heap of wings and tail-feathers; arms and pink shiny legs everywhere. Just as a door opened.
Maybe I was disorientated from the fall in the dark, but the door seemed to be in the wrong place. I stood up quickly trying to sort my feathers into something akin to normal, hoping that the newcomer wouldn’t notice. As I fiddled I took a look at my new companion and my first thought was “What a rubbish costume for a Pride parade.” The person in the doorway was wearing what looked like an oversized witch doctors mask, it looked tatty, badly decorated and frankly, cheap. I could just make out his legs, sticking out from either side of the pointed bottom part of the costume. But I couldn’t see his arms.
“The lights are out,” I said, feeling foolish as soon as the words left my mouth. “Is there a switch near to you?” The newcomer said nothing, “Hey, I asked you a question,” still nothing. “Come on man, I really need to get a move on, a bit of light would really help.” Finally he made a noise, it wasn’t a reply as such, more of a tuk-tuk noise with a few clik-clik sounds thrown in.
As he made his noises the light behind him went out. It wasn’t a gradual darkening as though the door closed, it just went from light to dark in an instant and I couldn’t see a thing. I didn’t see how, in a nanosecond, he made it from the doorway to me. But he did. The first thing I knew was, as the darkness enveloped me a pair of cold, almost slimy hands, gripped my upper arms and I could hear soft, tuk-tuk and clik-clik sounds.
“Hey,” my retort was indignant more than scared, “what d’you think you’re doing?” More noises. “Listen pal, I don’t know who you think you are but I would advise you to take your hands of me right now, and chew a mint because your breath stinks.” Nothing but more noises from the stranger so I tried to get physical. The result was a relatively long, considering the size of the room, flight through the darkness ending with a bone crunching smack into the wall that left me winded and slumped on the floor.
Instantly the arms had hold of me again and I was dragged away from the wall until I was flat on the floor.
“What do you want?” there was no indignance any more, now I was scared. The stranger made more noises and I felt his tongue probing my ear. “Gross, cut it out man. I think you may have gotten confused in the dark. I’m a guy, and I don’t swing that way.” For a moment, the noises sounded like a chuckle, but he didn’t stop, instead the tongue slid across my face and into the other ear. At the same time I felt a hand on my chest, rubbing the pink velveteen fabric of my outfit, but my arms were still being held in place. I began to panic.
“Look, whoever you are, please stop this. I am a guy.” My fears were growing, fast, and through the panic I had a horrifying moment of clarity. This wasn’t a person attacking me, I had no idea what it was, some sort of creature I suppose, but it was not human.
I tried to struggle, wriggling and thrusting to try and shake the creature off but my struggles ended as pain ripped through my chest under the creature’s hand. I screamed. Soon after his hand moved to the other side of my chest and the agonising pain was repeated. I slumped back to the floor all the fight gone from my muscles. Now all I could do was plead, which I did, words mixing with sobs as my situation became both weirder and worse.
The creature’s hands moved down my body slipping beneath my back, seemingly without raising me off the ground. At first all that I could feel was the cold clamminess of the creature’s skin, from both sides the chill moved inwards, at the same time I felt the creature trying to force its way between my legs. I begged for it to stop and willed my legs to stay closed, but neither happened. More pain ripped through my body, a searing pain in my pelvis as the creature forced my legs further apart than they were designed to go and a sharp stabbing pain at the base of my spine. The creature continued making its strange tuk-tuk noises, for a moment sounding slightly distracted. I took hope from its lack of attention and desperately tried to move my leaden body, but it was all to no avail. I felt the now familiar coldness travelling up my spine as the creature moved its hands once again, then I forgot all about it. Something hit me right in my ball sack, something hard.
“Please,” I was fully sobbing now, in all my life I had never been as afraid as I was in that moment, “please, I’m a man, you can’t do that. Please let me go.” But all the creature did was make more, tuk-tuk noises and continue to poke and prod at me with his appendage. To begin with I half expected him to move lower to find my anus, but he didn’t. Indeed, he didn’t seem to have any interest in anything other than banging his member against my body. It was beginning to cause me discomfort, I could only imagine the pain that it caused him. At least I hope it caused him pain.
“Please, don’t you realise I’m a guy,” I continued trying to plead with the creature but it seemed deaf to my begging, either that or the words were unintelligible, buried beneath my sobs.
A new pain shot up my spine, cutting short my pleas, and causing me to arch my back into the air for a moment. As I thrust upwards the creature pushed in the opposite direction, only this time there was no banging together of bodies. This time I felt him enter me, pushing through the pink velveteen material and my genitals as though they had ceased to be. I lay there, whimpering quietly as I felt my body shifting to accommodate his member, short sharp bursts of pain followed by unwanted sensations of pleasure as he brushed against my newly formed innards. There was no fight left in me now, a combination of pain, fear and shock had rendered me completely useless. My brain tried it’s hardest to shut out the evidence of what was happening, but nothing could totally blank out all the contradictory feelings and thoughts that were bombarding it. At one point, I would have sworn that I felt my wings feebly flapping beneath me.
Horrified, I could feel my body beginning to enjoy the punishment that was being meted out to it. My nipples were tightening and getting hard in a way they never had in the past, small waves of heat were beginning to spread from my groin and I was beginning to lose breath. But at the same time I wanted to scream and run as far from this place as I could. As my whimpers began to turn into moans I felt his organ swell and tense, stopping for just a moment before it began pulsating and jerking sending a cold darkness into the depths of my soul. It was all that I could take and I fell into unconsciousness.
I don’t know how long I lay there for and I don’t know if I was out the whole time, but I do have a memory of the creature talking to me. Somehow, I could now decipher its strange sounds.
“You not a guy, you’re a Faerie now. My spawn needs a strong mother and human women too weak.”

All that happened just over six months ago, or so they tell me. It’s all still a bit of a blur to be honest. Jenny and Billy have tried visiting a couple of times but they struggle to cope with my wings. Apparently, that was the pain I felt, the wings and tail of my costume stopped being costume parts and became a physical part of my body. Doctors tried to remove them during the early days after my ordeal, without success. Now I had fully functioning faerie wings and a long, feathered tail that helped my stability during flight. Yes, I could fly. According to the tests they did there is no logical explanation for this phenomenon, but then there is no explanation for any of it. If you hadn’t realised I have breasts as well, big breasts with big nipples, and they are getting bigger every day. They are also pink and have a velveteen texture, most of my body is covered like this. Only the lower part of my arms are the same colour as the people I see every day in the place that I live now. Even my vagina is pink and velvety.
Hopefully I will give birth soon, I don’t like carrying this creature inside of me. The doctors don’t know if it will be 9 months like a normal human or something completely different, but until it comes out I am going to have to remain in this place under constant watch of men with guns.

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